


Shifting Gears

by Indig0



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human), Cole died 3 years ago, Connor was a forensic analyst, Drifting aimlessly in life, Found Family, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hank left to become a mechanic, Hank's parental instinct is strong, Human AU, Richard and Cole are friends, Richard died 2 months ago, Richard was a detective, Richard was one hundred percent of Connor's impulse control, Suicidal Thoughts, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, the struggle is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 01:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20734244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indig0/pseuds/Indig0
Summary: Cole Anderson and Richard Stern were laid to rest in neighboring grave plots, and long to see their loved ones happy again.Richard’s recent death threw his brother Connor into a downward spiral that put him at odds more than ever with their adoptive mother, Amanda.  Connor left his home, his job, and his only remaining family behind and tried to start a new life on his own with only what he could fit in his car, but nothing went right and he was ready to give up.Meanwhile, Cole died in a car crash three years ago.  Hank tried to hold his life together, but everything seemed to fall through his fingers.  He spent his days throwing himself into a new career as a mechanic, and his nights drinking and thinking about joining Cole and finally getting some peace.Those used to standing on their own can struggle the most to accept help.(Entry for the Hank & Connor father/son BigBang!  Accompanied by fantastic artwork!  See chapter 2!)





	1. Chapter 1

“You would’ve been nine last Friday. Sorry, I – I should’ve… I just… I couldn’t.”

The middle-aged man, gray and worn beyond his years, stared down at the little gravestone.

“I lost a lot when I lost you.” His voice was thick with tears and liquor. “Lost your mom. Lost our home. Lost my job – kinda an aftershock, but I knew it was comin’. Jeffrey could only make excuses for me for so long, y’know?” He sighed. “Sorry, Cole. Fuck, I’m sorry. I – I’m glad you don’t have to see me like this. I just… I can’t.”

He turned sharply and staggered away through the rows of headstones.

_“I wish I could make him happy again,”_ a small voice sighed.

_“I know how you feel,”_ murmured a lower voice.

“You act like you don’t even care!”

“Connor, you know that isn’t true. I –“

“Just – stop! God, he’s only been… been dead for two months!”

“And I mourn for him every day,” Amanda grated out through clenched teeth. “I loved him. And I love you. And I can’t watch you throw your life away.”

Connor’s warm brown eyes narrowed. He drew himself up, though he didn’t bother to wipe his eyes. “Then I’ll spare you the pain of watching,” he growled, and stalked away.

“Connor –“ Amanda called after him, but he didn’t turn around. Probably best to give him some time to settle down. He would come around and see that she had his best interests at heart.

Connor didn’t settle down.

He’d put up with this for too long. Richard had always been the more even-tempered one, talking him down from doing something drastic, being there for him when he just needed support. Without Richard’s calming influence, he stormed back to his apartment down the street and started packing. He’d already quit his job, he wasn’t about to go back. He had nothing else here. In a blind rage, Connor crammed his things into every bag and box he could find. It could all be shoved into his little car. He dropped his key into the rental office’s mail slot as he headed out. Connor angrily flipped through the radio stations as he pulled onto the highway a few hours later until he finally found a metal station and cranked it up. Perfect.

Connor hadn’t cared where he was heading, just _away._ Now that he was on the highway though, he knew exactly where he was going. There was only one place he could go.

Hank’s schedule for visiting Cole was erratic. He’d go every day for a while, then not for a week, then maybe every other day. No matter what, he felt bad about it. He should go more, he shouldn’t dwell on this so much, he skipped a day…

He shouldn’t have skipped a day. Cole needed – no, he needed Cole, honestly. He needed him. He just needed his son. He didn’t want to forget him, didn’t want to leave him…

The cemetery was never too crowded, but even when there were other people around Hank never had trouble getting some privacy. He hadn’t run into the guy staring at the grave next to Cole’s before today.

He looked young, probably younger than thirty. Well, the casual observer might think he was older, but Hank knew the pinched face, hunched shoulders, dark circles under the eyes… Gray hair would likely follow sooner rather than later. The young man would end up just like Hank before he hit 35. Hank’s stomach twisted.

“How long’s it been?” he rumbled, voice scratchy and low.

The younger man jumped and looked up. “Ah – um. It’s – t-two months.” He was definitely holding back tears.

“Shit, that’s… that’s the worst time.” He nodded at Cole’s grave. “Three years for me. My son, Cole.”

He swallowed. “My… my brother. Richard.”

“I’m sorry,” Hank sighed, and turned back to Cole’s grave for a moment. He’d brought flowers the other day, and they were starting to wither. He would’ve liked to plant some flowers that wouldn’t die so fast, but there was a policy against that. “I come here… a lot still. Uh. ‘m Hank.”

The kid – he was just a kid – was staring at his brother’s headstone as if looking for answers, and Hank knew about that, too. “I haven’t been since the funeral,” he whispered. After a long pause he looked over. “Sorry. I – I’m Connor.” He coughed.

“It’s… hard to know what’ll help. What’s right. I still haven’t figured it out,” he mumbled.

The two stared down at their loved ones for a long time. Finally Connor took a deep breath and looked over at Hank.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Oh, uh… I didn’t really… yeah. You… you take care.”

“You too,” Connor replied woodenly, and walked away. He’d parked on the other side of the cemetery in a shady spot, and when he shut himself in the car he closed his eyes for a minute. …Coming here was crazy, he didn’t need Richard to tell him that. But at the same time, he felt just a little better being here. Their mother wasn’t looming over him. No one was demanding anything of him. He was closer to… well, at least the physical representation of his brother. And that little bit of conversation with a stranger had been probably the simplest, nicest interaction he’d had with someone in a long time. No expectations, no obvious judgment… He exhaled slowly. He was here now, he had to keep going and try to make the best of it. The weather was okay, so he could live out of his car if he had to while he looked for a job. Any job. Anything to prove that he could make it on his own.

He finally dug out his keys and went to start the car. There was a grinding sound, then a screech. The car, a 2005 model, shuddered and went silent.

“Shit,” Connor hissed under his breath. Their mother didn’t like them cursing, or even using slang. It was unprofessional, it made a bad impression. Even now it didn’t come naturally, but he felt the occasion called for it.

He tried the key again, and again. It ground, it screeched, sometimes it shook. But the engine never roared to life.

Connor popped the hood and lifted it to take a look. …Not that he knew the first thing about cars. Maybe everything was fine. Maybe the engine was upside down. How should he know? Aside from the fact that the damn thing wouldn’t start.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Connor glared up at the darkening sky just in time to be hit in the face with a fat raindrop. He sucked in a sharp breath and he slammed down the hood, swinging back into the car as the storm rolled in.

When the rain started to fall, Hank shuffled off to his car on the other side of the cemetery with a muttered goodbye. He drove to Jimmy’s Bar, but the parking lot was packed. The next one he tried had a couple open spaces, but by that point he didn’t want to face that many people. He had a bottle of Black Lamb at home, that’d be more up his alley right now…

The next morning, head still swimming from the night before, Hank was clearing a mouse nest out of an engine to see what kind of shape the wires were in when the phone rang. He straightened up with a series of cracks and pops and groaned, holding his back as he shuffled over to answer it.

“Anders Automotive,” he sighed into the phone.

“Um – hello, I… I need to get my car fixed.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “What’s the problem?”

“Well when I turn the key there’s this… this grating sound, and sometimes a screeching, and then it shakes really hard, but it doesn’t start.”

His voice sounded familiar somehow. “…Sounds nasty. I can take a look at it.”

“Great! Um… it won’t start though, so… would you be able to tow it there?”

“Don’t have a tow truck here, you’ll have to call for a tow. You got AAA?”

“No. Uh – no.”

“Okay, well, I usually recommend Dave’s Tow Service, over on 34th. That anywhere near you?”

“Uh… I’m not sure, I’m… I just got to town, I’m not… from here.”

“Well, where are you now?”

“Woodlawn Cemetery, on… um…”

“On Woodward. That ain’t far. Hey, dumb question, were you there last night, just before the rain?”

“Oh, um… I… yes...”

“Think we met already. You’re on the north end, I’m guessin’?”

“I… think so.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you a tow, don’t worry about it.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Sure, no problem, kid. You just sit tight, I’ll do that soon as I hang up with you. Shouldn’t be long at this time of day. I’ll call you back if it’s gonna be more than about half an hour, okay?”

“I… that’s… that’s…”

“Don’t mention it. I’m gonna hang up now and call ‘em. See ya soon.”

“See you…”

Hank hung up and dialed the tow company. Maybe the kid – Connor – was younger than he’d realized. He sounded young. And he’d been crying. …Which Hank couldn’t blame him for, between his brother and his car. Everything was dying on him. Hank knew that feeling all too well.

When the tow truck brought the car to the garage, Hank had moved the mouse nest car to make room. The driver hopped out and got to work getting the car down. Connor got out and stood stiffly to the side with a blotchy face, staring blankly at the car. He continued to stare when the tow guy unhooked it and talked to Hank for a couple minutes, then got back in the truck and drove off.

Hank cleared his throat, and Connor jumped and looked at him guardedly. “Uh, I’ll take a look. Not sure how long it’s gonna take. You stayin’ nearby?”

“I – n-not far,” Connor mumbled. “Just… let me grab some things, and… um… call me when… when you know… what’s wrong, how long it’ll take…”

“Sure. I’ve got your number.” It seemed like Connor was lying about something. Or more likely hiding something. But unless it involved the car, it really wasn’t any of his business. He went to enter the car’s information in the computer, calling out questions now and then as Connor rooted through the back seat. When he’d filled out all the forms and gathered some tools, he came over to watch the younger man. His head was still pounding from last night. He’d definitely shifted from still a little drunk to hung over. “You gonna be a while in there?”

“I – sorry, I… I can get out of your way.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be hard to work on the car with you in it,” Hank grumbled.

“Of course.” He grabbed a backpack and shoved a few things into it. “Sorry, I – uh… Give me a call when you know… anything.”

“Said I would.” It was going to be a hell of a day.

It was too early to book a hotel, so Connor found a library and slumped in front of a computer. He tried to relax into the chair, but was too full of jittery energy. Once his car was fixed, he’d be okay. …If it could be fixed. He’d been so relieved to see Hank, to see anyone he recognized offering help, but it seemed like such a small shop. And Hank had been so impatient. Which of course was entirely deserved. Connor hadn’t been prepared, he’d been trying to grab what he’d need for a few days, but he hadn’t packed well, so… he’d have to make do with what he’d managed to cram in his backpack.

There weren’t any forensic analyst positions open anywhere in the city and the whole industry left a bad taste in his mouth, so Connor looked for other things. There were jobs teaching Chinese kids English online that paid well, but that required a stable internet connection and he couldn’t count on some random hotel to have that. Various management and sales positions… he could try, but it didn’t seem like his kind of thing. Why would anyone want to buy anything from him? And what if his subordinates just… didn’t do what he said? What was he supposed to do about that?

The mechanic he’d left his car with had an ad for shop help, but it didn’t pay much and required experience, and Connor didn’t know a tire jack from an axel wrench. Was that even a thing? It was one of those things their mother had said they could always find someone else to work on. Like… just about everything else.

He applied to a few waiter jobs, and a couple of higher-end retail positions. He knew he was being too picky – he had to have some kind of income. Their mother wouldn’t approve of any of these jobs, it didn’t matter. It was better, in fact. He was done pleasing her, he’d never rebelled in his life, it was past time.

Still, he’d miss the illusion of security.

He walked to Taco Bell for lunch, and was hunched in a booth eating a burrito when his phone rang. He hastily wiped his hands and mouth and answered. “Mm – hello?”

“Hey, this is Hank down at Anders Automotive.” He sounded less impatient, though no less tired. “Good news is I tested your battery, and it’s doing fine. Transmission too.”

“What’s the bad news?” Connor asked tersely.

“Well first off, looks like your starter drive gear needs replacing. That ain’t so expensive to fix. But the shaking, that’s electrical problems. I’d say all together it’s gonna be at least $2500.”

Connor’s stomach sank. “Is… is it worth repairing?” He asked numbly.

“Sure, it beats gettin’ a new car. I can order the part today, and get it done by the end of the week. Monday at the latest.”

He felt sick, and pushed the burrito to the other side of the table where he didn’t have to look at it. “I… I guess that’s my only option, then.”

“Uh, I’d be willing to talk about an extended payment plan if you can’t… manage all that right now.”

“I – I can… I mean I’m between jobs right now, but…”

“Look, I can see you’re livin’ out of your car right now, must be everything you own in there. You got a place to stay?”

“N-not… I… I just got to town yesterday, I… haven’t had a chance to…”

“You, uh… you know anything about cars? Because I’m lookin’ for some help around here, I could take work instead of cash.”

“I don’t know the first thing about cars, Mr. Anders,” Connor said stiffly. “Thank you for your help. I – I’ll manage.”

“Okay. Well… if you need to come by and grab anything, you can show up whenever.”

“Thank you,” Connor said, a little softer than before, and hung up. He slumped in his seat, staring blankly at his phone for a long moment before getting up to throw away the remaining ¾ of his burrito and use the bathroom before he left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
Art by [Trang](https://c0ffi3.tumblr.com/), the artist paired with me for this project! Thanks, it's amazing!!

Hank got back to work on the car with a mouse nest under the hood. Connor’s car sat in the second bay, which he rarely used for anything but storage. He worked late that night, and managed not to think too hard about anything for a change. He was working late more often these days, as business was picking up slowly. If he had some help he wouldn’t have to, and it wasn’t like he was getting overtime pay… but that would leave him with more time to himself, and that was never good. He wished he could keep the dog here, but Sumo didn’t like the noises and smells and frequent visitors.

The next morning Hank had two cars sitting in front of the shop that had broken down on the highway overnight. There were keys and notes shoved under the door. He grumbled as he picked them up, and started calling the owners. He woke both of them up and didn’t feel too bad about that. If they wanted their cars fixed, they could answer the damn phone.

Once he got that sorted out, Hank looked up to find a ragged figure standing by the door. “Christ, you look like shit!” he muttered. “You get any sleep last night?

Connor’s eyes were puffy and squinting, his hair was messy, and he might have changed his shirt, but that was all. His grayish face pinkened. “You said I could get things out of my car when I needed to?” he asked stiffly.

“Shit, yeah, go for it. Right there.” Hank jerked his thumb over at the car. “And get some coffee from the lobby, you look like a fuckin’ zombie.”

Connor took two steps towards the car, reeled to a halt, paused for a second, then turned and strode to the tiny waiting room where there was a pot of reheated coffee brewing. Hank watched him fill a little Styrofoam cup and gulp it down through the window. His shoulders sagged, and he sank into the broken down little couch.

Hank forgot about him while he changed a battery and replaced some spark plugs, until he went to run a customer’s credit card. There was a little computer terminal with a card reader in the shop, so he didn’t spend much time in the waiting room area, but through the window he spotted Connor sprawled on the couch, head tipped back, fast asleep. He also spotted the cup of coffee spilled all over the floor, and scowled as he sent the customer on her way with a new battery. He tiptoed in and threw out the cup, then mopped up the coffee. Connor took one deep breath and stirred a little when he came in, but didn’t wake up.

It wasn’t until the second customer left and slammed the shop door that Connor shot up in his seat and looked around, bleary-eyed and disoriented. Hank wiped his hands on a cloth and went into the waiting room.

“Rough night, huh?”

“I – I – I’m sorry, I…”

“Nah, I’m just givin’ you shit, don’t worry.” He waved dismissively. “You looked half dead. Nobody else’s in here, you might as well get some use out of the couch.”

“I…” Connor swallowed thickly, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah. So you really got a place to stay, or what?” Hank frowned down at the younger man.

“I did!” Connor protested. “I got a hotel room.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It was just… hard to sleep.”

“What, bedbugs? Loud neighbors?”

“Well… yes, those… and just… thinking about things.”

Hank made a face. “Well fuck, don’t go back to a shit-hole like that. At least take care of part of the problem.”

“I’ll find somewhere else tonight,” Connor mumbled. “I’m sorry again.” He brushed past Hank and went to rummage through his car.

Hank spent some time cleaning up from the early customers before meandering over to Connor again. He seemed a little more put-together now.

“You know anybody nearby?”

Connor barked out a humorless laugh. “Not anyone closer than Chicago.”

“Any luck on the job front?”

Connor glanced down at his phone, and his breath hitched. “I – shit! I was supposed to have an interview half an hour ago, I –“ He jumped away from the car, looked down at the time again with increasing despair, then shuffled in place.

“Fuck, sorry, would’ve woken you up if I’d known. Think you can give ‘em a call and reschedule?”

He shook his head wearily. “It was a group interview, they don’t… they wouldn’t make an exception.” His shoulders slumped.

Hank watched him for a moment, then sighed and rubbed his neck. “Look, I’m gonna go get a burger, didn’t have any breakfast this morning. Why don’t you tag along?”

Connor’s hands balled into fists, and Hank could see how his nails dug into his palms. “I don’t need your pity,” he snapped, his whole posture screaming for any help he could get.

“Didn’t offer my pity, I said a burger,” Hank muttered. “Didn’t say I was payin’ for it either. One-time offer, take it or leave it.” He turned and walked out the door towards his car. Sure he could see the kid needed help, but he was too old for Hank to force it on him. He got in the car and flinched as music blared when he turned the key. By the time he turned it down and buckled his seat belt, Connor was standing uncertainly at the passenger side.

“Well? Get in,” Hank called, and Connor fumbled to do so.

“So you’re from Chicago?” Hank asked as they drove.

“Yes,” Connor muttered, looking out the window. He’d pulled a coin out of his pocket and was flipping it back and forth from hand to hand.

“You, uh… your brother’s… here, though?”

“Yes.”

“Sure, none of my business.” Burger King wasn’t far, and he parked in the lot.

“…He made his wishes clear.”

“Huh.”

“N-not that… he didn’t think…”

“Nah, nobody ever does,” Hank said softly. “It’s fine.” …That was a lie, of course. Sometimes people did plan for that to happen soon. And it wasn’t really fine.

Hank ordered a combo meal, and Connor got a chicken sandwich from the dollar menu and a small Sprite. He ate slowly, looking like every bite was painful.

When they finished and threw their trash away, they headed back. Hank passed the garage though, and Connor looked nervously from it to him.

“Nobody’s called, nobody’s waitin’, you wanna head over to Woodlawn for a bit? Or I can drop you somewhere.”

Connor stared straight ahead, a lump growing in his throat. “That’s fine,” he whispered.

It wasn’t fine.

Hank ignored him once they got there, focusing on his son’s grave, talking softly. If he hadn’t been right there, Connor knew he would have collapsed into a sobbing heap on Richard’s grave. He couldn’t do this. He could barely function on his own, he’d already failed to get a job or find a decent place to stay, he was taking pity from strangers, he might as well just give up right now and go find somewhere to curl up and die. Talking to Richard might have helped a little, but he knew that would open the floodgates and he wouldn’t do that in a public place, much less in front of Hank.

Desperate to focus on something, Connor’s ears pricked at Hank’s mumbled words.

“…They’ve been coatin’ the wiring with… with soy protein for the past fifteen years or so, like… I dunno, hard tofu? Made from beans? Sounds gross, but it’s better for the environment or some shit. Crap, sorry. Anyway, turns out mice love the stuff. Fifth one I’ve seen that mice moved into. Had to replace all the wiring. …Didn’t find any babies in there when I cleared out the nest, though, I… I know you’d be interested in that, I was real careful to look. The mom prob’ly carried ‘em all out when the tow truck hooked up to it. Remember you asked for a hamster one time?” He chuckled dryly. “Well it’s better that these guys are living in the wild. Oh, you should’ve seen Sumo the other day though, he was sleepin’ on his back in the sun, droolin’ upside down like a big dope…”

Connor wasn’t sure when he had straightened up and turned to face Hank, but his throat was tight and when Hank stopped talking he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The older man looked over and scowled self-consciously. “I can still talk to him,” he muttered.

“How old was he?” Connor blurted out.

“Uh. Six. He’d, um… be nine by now.”

Connor swallowed thickly. “You talk to him like… like he’d be interested,” he whispered. “Like he matters.”

Confusion flashed over Hank’s face for an instant before it hardened into a glare. “Course he matters, he – he’s still my son, alive or… dead. I loved – I love talkin’ to him.” His glare fell away, leaving his face slack and numb. “We used to talk all the time, about anything. He’d tell me everything he knew, anything he was thinkin’, and he’d ask what I thought, and he’d wanna know more… and damn he was smart, if… if he’d had a chance to grow up, he… he woulda… done all kinds of amazing shit.” He sniffled loudly and looked away.

Connor’s arms came up to hug himself tightly, and his shoulders rose to his ears. They stood uncomfortably in silence for a moment.

“What… what was your brother like?” Hank finally asked in a rather raspy voice.

Connor took a while to answer. “He was good at everything,” he barely whispered. “I was so proud of him. And sometimes jealous. We were… so close, though. We were always together until… until he moved away. He looked almost like me, but… gray eyes. A little taller. He was two years younger, but we could’ve been twins.” He swallowed hard and continued. “He loved to read. He was good at every game, he was great at sports. He was so smart. We talked all the time – in person, on the phone, we’d text, we’d tag each other in dumb Facebook memes… I think our mother… preferred him. I was jealous of… of that, mostly. She pushed us both hard. She… she wanted us t-to succeed. To be good enough, and… and I just… R-Richard was, he always was even when it was h-h-hard, but I…” A ragged sob tore through him and he squeezed himself, doubling over.

The second Hank’s fingers touched his back, he vomited his lunch and the coffee all over Richard’s grave. He sputtered and continued to sob, stumbling back a step, but now there was a big, warm hand on his back, holding him steady. He heard Hank’s voice and realized belatedly that the man was talking to him.

“Easy, you just gotta breathe. There ya go, stand up, that’ll help a little. Just take a nice deep breath now. Nice and slow. …Little slower there. Okay, now another. C’mon Connor, work with me.”

“Sorry,” Connor gasped, unable to stop crying, unable to get the sour taste out of his mouth, unable to stop his lungs from burning, there spots swimming in his vision, his whole body hurt, his eyes burned.

“It’s okay, let it out, but you gotta breathe too.” Hank’s voice was getting more urgent, Connor couldn’t stop crying, it hurt so bad, everything was blurry, he gasped shallowly but couldn’t take in much air, things were getting dark around the edges, Hank yelled something as everything went black.

“Shit!” Hank caught Connor as he crumpled to the ground. “Fuck, I told you to breathe, damn it! Connor! Wake up!” He shook the younger man, whose eyes fluttered. “Don’t make me take your ass to the ER!”

“Uhhh…” Connor groaned and squinted, taking a deep, uneven breath. Tears were still flowing freely, and his chest and stomach hurt. He sagged bonelessly in Hank’s arms and began to weep brokenly, a little softer this time. Hank grunted as he sat down on the grass next to him.

“Okay, take it easy now. You’re gonna be okay, just didn’t let yourself breathe for a second there. That’s the thing, you can cry all you need, you can scream, punch shit, drink yourself to sleep, do whatever helps, but you gotta keep breathin’. …It’s a bitch sometimes, I know.”

“I – I’m sorry, I –“ Connor tried to pull away, but Hank wrapped an arm firmly around his shoulders.

“Nope, we’re gonna stay right here, you’re gonna get out what you need to. Nobody’s called me to work, so I’ve got nowhere to be. You get this over with, you’ll feel better.”

Connor blinked up at him, trembling and tearful.

“…Not great,” he admitted. “Just better than you feel now. Not promisin’ any miracles here, just sayin’ you can’t keep everything in and expect to be able to function. Now we’re just gonna sit here and breathe, okay? No rush.”

As the two sat, Connor crying and breathing and Hank talking to him softly, the other two watched, unseen.

_“…I like your father,”_ Richard murmured.

_”He’s really nice when you’re sad, and his hugs always make you feel better,”_ Cole said.

_”I… I’m glad Connor has that. Right now. We… never did before, aside from each other.”_

The young boy looked up, then shuffled over and hugged the tall man tightly.

_”What-?”_

_”He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay too.”_

After a moment, Richard’s arm curled around the boy. _”Thank you, Cole.”_

Connor was still crying fifteen minutes later, but he was breathing too. Dark clouds were beginning to gather, and finally Hank sighed, patting him on the back.

“We should get outta here before it rains again.”

“O-of course.” Connor struggled to his feet and swayed, sniffling and wiping his face, though it did no good. He stumbled after Hank back to the car, and flopped into the passenger seat.

“Uh – listen, I’ve gotta get back to the garage, can I – do you, uh… I just… I don’t wanna stick you in some shitty motel again, kid.”

“I’m not –“ Connor sniffed hard. “I… thank you for… for your… kindness, but I’m not your r-responsibility. I can take care of… myself.”

“I know you can, not sayin’ you can’t. You’re an adult. Uh.” Hank scowled at the red light they were stopped at. “I was just thinking, um – hey, you like dogs?”

“W-what?”

“Dogs. Big dogs.”

“I, um… haven’t interacted m-much… with them, but… I think so. N-nice ones, anyway.” He wiped at his face.

“So uh… I’ve got this St. Bernard, his name’s Sumo. He’s had a pretty rough time the past few years too, but you don’t hear him complainin’… not much, anyway. I feel bad that he’s gotta stay home alone all day, and then… well, I’m not great company when I’m home either.” Hank sighed. “Wonder if we could work out a deal. You give Sumo some attention, maybe take him for a walk in a while, and if you need a place to crash the couch is pretty wide… No bedbugs, either. Uh – it’s not too clean, but…” He trailed off, shrugging. He definitely would have cleaned it this morning if he’d thought about this then.

Connor had gone silent. He wiped his face again. “I… I would have to pay you something…”

“Like I said, take care of my dog. I feel guilty knowin’ he’s all alone all the time. He’s all I’ve got, and I don’t treat him as good as he deserves. …And I’ll give you the wifi password so you can look for jobs and shit too.”

“Is this… b-because… I’m such a mess?”

Hank’s face twisted up, then he shrugged again. “Honestly? Yeah. I’ve lost everything I had, I know how it is. And it’s fuckin’ impossible to drag yourself up out of the hole without some help. I was lucky I had a few friends – my boss and coworkers back then – who wouldn’t let me just stew in the pain. I sure as fuck would’a swallowed a bullet in the first year otherwise.” He didn’t mention how he almost had anyway, or how close he’d come in the following two years.

Connor was trembling, hugging himself, staring at his knees. “I don’t – I can’t…”

“Will you give it a try for a day?” Hank interrupted. “Just til tomorrow morning, not even a full day. Give my poor dog some attention, we’ll scrounge up some dinner, get yourself a shower and a good night’s sleep… then we’ll talk, and you can figure out what you wanna do after that. Okay?”

“I d-don’t know.” Connor sniffled.

Hank sighed. “Look, I can’t force you. Wish you would, but… you’re a grown man, it’s up to you. I’m not gonna sit here and run your life and make you uncomfortable. Want me to drop you at home, or you got somewhere else you wanna be?”

Connor squeezed his eyes tightly shut, breathing raggedly. “Okay,” he finally choked out. “Just… just one day.”

“Just one day,” Hank repeated gently, and patted Connor’s shoulder. “And you can leave any time you want. Okay kid, hang on. We’re almost there.”

Hank’s house was a low-grade disaster, but when he saw Sumo he just focused on the big dog.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s a lazy thing, ain’t ya?” Hank scratched the dog’s ears affectionately. “Uh, kitchen’s in there, bathroom’s down the hall…” He glanced at his open bedroom door uncertainly – but he’d already gotten into this, too late to not trust Connor alone in his house now. “Wifi password’s on the fridge. There’s Sumo’s leash if you wanna take him out, and there are some treats on top of the fridge. Not too many, he don’t need ‘em. I’ll feed him when I get home. And you’ve got my number if anything comes up. Okay?”

Connor nodded slowly, looking around.

“Uh – if you just walk around the neighborhood the house’ll be okay unlocked. Not that I’ve got anything anybody wants.”

He nodded again.

“Hey. You gonna make it?”

Connor blinked. “Of course. I’m sorry, I – I’ll be fine.”

Hank smiled tiredly and squeezed his shoulder. “Yeah, ‘s okay that you’re not quite there yet, though. I’ll see you tonight. Try to find somethin’ to eat, I know I’ve got crackers or somethin’. Sumo, you be good.” He waved and left.

Connor shifted his weight as he watched Hank drive away through the window, then jumped when he felt a cold nose on his hand. Sumo snuffed and wagged his tail, then continued to sniff Connor up and down.

“Hi… Sumo.” Connor tried to smile. “I like dogs.” He patted his head. “I used to want a dog. I begged our mother, but… dogs were too dirty, too needy, she didn’t want to take care of one… I had fish for a while, but I always said… when I got away, I wanted a dog.” His face twitched. “I can’t seem to even take care of myself, so it’s probably best that hasn’t happened.”

Sumo whined and nudged Connor, then trotted off and came back with a big rope toy that he pushed into Connor’s legs.

“You want to play?” Connor managed a weak smile. “Okay. Give it to me.”

Sumo held up the rope, but tightened his grip and pulled away when Connor tried to take it.

“I – you have to give it to me if you want me to throw it for you.” He pulled harder.

Sumo pulled back, bracing himself and growling a little. Connor immediately let go.

“I’m sorry, you can have it, I wasn’t trying to take it!”

Sumo sneezed and stepped up closer, offering the rope again.

“I – I don’t want to make you angry, I just wanted to play with you.” Hesitantly, he grasped it. Again, Sumo pulled back. His breathing quickened and his tail wagged back and forth.

“Are you – do you like this?” Sumo huffed and yanked to the side. Connor held tight. “Are we… playing tug-o-war?”

Sumo growled again, wagging his tail, and pulled hard. Connor laughed softly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand the game. …Let’s see how strong you are, then!”


	3. Chapter 3

Hank was a little late getting back, but when he opened the door he saw Connor jerk awake under Sumo’s full weight on the couch.

“I guess you two made friends?” the older man commented with a chuckle.

“I – sorry – we played for a while, then I brushed him – then I had to clean up, and finished brushing him outside – I got half a trash bag of hair off of him, I… I can’t believe he’s still got any.” Connor laughed self-consciously, and Sumo licked his face. “Um. We took a walk, and – does he know any tricks? Because he wouldn’t do anything for me.”

“Nah, he’s too stubborn for that kinda shit. But he knows how to act, don’t you, boy?” Hank came over and gave Sumo’s ribs an affectionate pat.

“Ah – Hank? I was thinking… the parts for my car should arrive no later than Monday, you said?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Do you think you’d be able to get it fixed by the end of the day?”

Hank scowled. “I dunno, maybe. Depends on what time they get in, and whether I’ve got any emergency repairs that come in. Might be Tuesday. Why?”

Connor bit his lip and nodded slowly. “I’m just… trying to plan my next few days.”

“You feelin’ better?”

“A - a little. I’m so sorry –“

Hank patted Connor’s shoulder a little lighter than he’d patted Sumo. “I told you, don’t worry about it. Did you find anything to eat?”

“Oh, um… no, I was busy.”

“Uh-huh.” Hank gave him an appraising look, then headed into the kitchen, cracking his back on the way. “I’ve got… pasta. Eggs, probably still good… Couple of frozen pizzas.”

“Oh, I – you don’t have to…”

“I’m gonna make spaghetti. You can have that, or you can make your own shit.” Hank got to work, cracking open a beer to sip on while he cooked. Connor tried to shift out from under Sumo, but the big dog gave him such a sorrowful look that he immediately stilled and whispered an apology.

“…Uh, listen.” Hank stepped out into the living room again. “I – I’m not tryin’ to… make you do anything you don’t wanna do, Connor. You wanna get the fuck outta here, that’s fine. All I’m sayin’ is if you want some crappy food and a place to stay, you’ve got it.”

Connor sighed, and so did Sumo. “I just - I want to be clear on what’s expected.”

Hank shrugged. “Couch and pasta, and prob’ly more dog than you can handle.”

“I don’t have… much to offer. I can pay you, just not a lot. If you want me to… wash dishes or something, I can do that. I don’t feel like playing with Sumo is… adequate compensation.”

“Nah, listen, if I want somethin’ from you, I’ll tell you right off the bat.”

Connor frowned. “I don’t see how it benefits you, though.”

They stared at each other, and Hank’s face fell a little.

“Well, like I said. If you’re not okay with it, I won’t keep you here. C’mon Sumo, get off, let him up.”

Sumo finally rolled over and began to heave himself up, but Connor grabbed him and pulled him back so he fell heavily on the young man with an indignant huff.

“N-no, I… I’m just… I don’t understand.”

“I’m – Jesus, I’m not talkin’ about anything creepy, let’s get that outta the way right now. I mean, I could practically be your grandpa…”

Connor was bright red. “I – no, God, I didn’t think – how old _are_ you, anyway?”

“Fifty-three, but –“

“Hank, how old do you think I am!?” Connor let out a strained laugh.

“I dunno, around thirty?”

“…Twenty-eight.”

“Yeah, close enough. So more son than grandson.” Hank forced a chuckle, then looked up to find Connor staring at him with wide eyes. “Uh. Uh, better check on dinner.” He fled to the kitchen.

So now there was definitely too much spaghetti. He fished out one noodle and blew on it, then took a bite. Soft enough to eat. He turned off the stove and drained the pasta, then hesitated before taking out two plates and forks. He hadn’t heard the door slam shut. And sure enough, when he looked up, Connor stood in the doorway while Sumo wandered off to sniff at his bowl.

“Cole… was lucky to have a father like you,” Connor said quietly, not quite looking at him.

Hank’s heart clenched up and he quickly turned back to the pot of sauce heating on the stove. “Why… why don’t you feed Sumo, he’s… he thinks he’s starving. In the cabinet there. He gets two cups twice a day.” He waved vaguely, and Connor found the dog food while they both took a few deep, steadying breaths. 

Dinner began silently, with neither one sure what to say. Hank had offered Connor a beer and it sat untouched next to his plate, condensation dripping slowly down the bottle.

“So, uh… what kinda work you lookin’ for?”

“I’m… not sure. Just anywhere that will hire me.” Connor pushed his pasta around the plate. “I realize I’ll probably have to learn on the job, but I pick things up quickly.”

“What’d you do before?”

“Um. Forensic analyst for the Chicago police department.”

“Y’don’t say? I used to be a detective for the DPD.”

Connor’s fork clinked hard against the plate. “Y-you did? How… how long ago?”

“Oh, I handed in my badge two years ago, but I was on the force 27 years before that.”

Connor deflated. “Oh. You wouldn’t have known…”

“What?”

Connor poked at his food, eyes down. “My brother. He was… well, he had just started as a detective with the DPD.”

Hank smiled. “No shit? Fuckin’ small world, I missed him by a couple years.” He paused. “You, uh… wanna talk about it? You don’t have to.”

The younger man made a face. “I don’t know. …He was very devoted to the job. Well, the idea of the job. He… it was his first real assignment…”

“Shit, kid, I’m sorry.”

“He was just… so excited about it. All of it. He wanted to make a difference, to make the world safer, more fair.”

“…We all start out that way,” Hank said softly. “And if we’re lucky, we get to do a little of that now and then. But it’s never how you picture it.”

“That’s… Honestly, I never saw front-line police work as… the best way to do that.” Connor glanced up. “No offense, I’m sure –“

“Nah, you’re right. Like I said, if you’re lucky, you get to do some good. You’re not always lucky.”

“Our mother was… proud of his success, though she wanted him to go into a more… prestigious line of work. …With me it was the opposite.” He smiled, tight and lopsided.

“I mean, prestigious won’t put food on the table,” Hank muttered. “You do what you can to get by.”

Connor sighed and put down his fork. “That’s… Richard and I both struggled with that. I think you’re right, but it’s not the way we were brought up. I know it’s wrong, but it’s hard to break away from a mindset like that. He was always more… flexible in his thinking, though. I wish I’d been able to just… just go out and do what I chose to do like that. Even if it wasn’t that far from what she wanted.”

“You said you were in forensics, right?”

Connor nodded, watching Sumo triple-check for any spilled food around the kitchen.

“You’ve gotta be sharp as a tack to be good at that. What, did you get tired of it?”

“I just… I didn’t want to be there.” Connor shifted uncomfortably. “It’s an interesting field, I didn’t mind the job. I – I liked it. It was fine. And if… if nothing had happened, I think I could’ve been fine there for a long time. But when Richard died… I just didn’t… want to do it anymore. I realize how selfish that sounds, but I couldn’t take it all of a sudden. So I handed in my resignation. …And believe me, I know how irresponsible and immature it was.” His head dipped lower. “I’ve been told. And I’ve had time to think about it.”

“…You thinkin’ about goin’ back now?” Hank asked softly.

Connor grimaced. “No. I – how can I go back after resigning so recently?”

“I mean, if you wanted to you could find somewhere else prob’ly.”

Connor’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose you’re right,” he muttered.

Hank watched him for a long moment. “But you don’t want to.”

Connor remained silent.

“Y’know, I’ve heard talk like that before. Wantin’ somethin’ else, maybe you don’t even know what, just not what you’re stuck with.”

“As I said, I know it was irresponsible of me.”

“I’ve heard that too. Irresponsible and immature, you said. Ungrateful, I heard that too, when it was me. Throwin’ away my life.” He shrugged and took a swig of beer. “Don’t think it was right for me. How ‘bout you?”

Connor stared at him.

“Sometimes you need a change.”

“But… but I… I had a high-paying career that I excelled at!”

“Yeah, but your heart wasn’t really in it. Like you said, it woulda been okay for a while, but c’n you see yourself stickin’ with it until you were my age?”

Connor blinked a few times. “I – well no…”

“Well? Why waste your time, then?”

Connor gaped, open-mouthed.

“You know you’re gonna move on, might as well do it when you need to shake your life up anyway, right?”

They stared at each other.

“Listen, work’s like any other relationship. No harm in trying different things, but if you gave it a good shot and you’re not happy, you don’t have to waste your time hatin’ it more and more until you snap. Not when you’ve got a chance to change things up.”

“But – so you’re saying it’s… okay to just quit and become a bum and… and starve on the street!?”

Hank made a face. “Course not, you’re over here lookin’ for somethin’ else, right? And I know your stomach’s so empty it’s turnin’ inside out by now, but you’re not on the street.”

“…Only because you invited me in,” Connor mumbled.

“Yeah, so?”

“So I would have… I’d be starving on the street if it weren’t for you.”

“I mean, prob’ly in some fleabag motel for another couple nights, but you’re a bright kid, you’ll get up on your feet again.”

“Being bright isn’t enough,” Connor growled.

“No, you’re right.” Hank watched him for a long moment. “You’ve gotta work for it, and be flexible, and know when to ask for help.”

“I – that’s what I’m saying though, if I’m… mooching off some random… mechanic I met in the cemetery, that’s not – I haven’t accomplished anything.”

Hank frowned deeply and got up to get another beer. “If we knew each other better, would that make a difference? What if you went to stay with some family?”

“We were adopted, and most of our mother’s family is gone, or haven’t spoken to her in years… I don’t have any other family.”

“So it ain’t about how well you know somebody?”

“I mean – if you were a family member, or a friend, it wouldn’t be much different. Maybe a bit less awkward. But even then, after a few days I’d wear out my welcome. I’d just be a freeloader then. A parasite.”

“…Never invited any tapeworms inside,” Hank muttered, rolling his eyes. “Well if you’re that dead-set on bein’ useful, you wanna help out in the shop?”

“I – I told you I don’t know anything about fixing cars.”

“Yeah, I got that. I can show you a thing or two.”

“I don’t… think I’d be very good at it.”

“Prob’ly not, at first. You don’t go into things for the first time bein’ great at ‘em. …But like I said, it’s just if you want. No pressure.”

Connor gnawed on his lip as he thought. “Hank, I really don’t… have any mechanical skills, I think I’d be more of a hinderance.”

“That’s fine if you don’t want to. I was just thinkin’ it’d work out perfect because tomorrow’s Friday, you could try it out for a day, then you’ve got a couple days to put out some applications before we can even get your car fixed. And I know you don’t know shit about cars. But you’re a smart kid, you can learn.”

Connor made a face. “You keep calling me a kid – I’m almost thirty, I’m an adult by any measure.”

“I know. Ain’t about that, really. I dunno, you’re younger’n me, that’s all. If it bothers you that much, I’ll stop.”

His face gradually relaxed a bit, and he glanced up. “I’d… appreciate that.”

“Okay. …Might slip up, but I’ll catch on eventually.”

“How long do you expect to practice?”

Hank shrugged, taking a drink. “It just kinda slips out, but I’ll work on it.”

“I mean, how long do you think I’ll be… here?”

“Up to you.” Hank grinned, twirling up the last of his pasta. “Figure you’re gonna want a mechanic you can call next time your car breaks down, though. You know where to find me.”

Connor laughed tiredly. “So I can pay for your retirement, hm?”

Hank snorted. “Shit Connor, I think you’ve got plenty of time left with that car, but I’ll tell you if it ain’t worth repairin’. ‘M not expectin’ you to pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into it.”

Connor stared at Hank’s plate for a long moment, then picked up his fork again and began to eat slowly.

After Connor finished his food and Hank finished his second beer, they headed to the living room where Hank found an old movie on TV, and Sumo immediately took up the middle of the couch so each of them had to squeeze onto an end. Small talk during commercials turned into animated conversation, both of them twisting to face each other over the mound of Saint Bernard between them.

“…So this dumbass takes his keys and throws ‘em up the hill, then gets pissed when I wouldn’t go look for ‘em!”

Connor laughed in disbelief. “But he threw them!”

“Fuckin’ right!” Hank shrugged, taking a drink of beer #4. “He found ‘em eventually. Left me some bad reviews online, but I don’t give a shit, I’m not puttin’ up with adults throwin’ fits.”

“I hope that’s not a common occurrence!” Connor was smiling faintly, sipping at his own beer as he rubbed Sumo’s back.

“Nah – lots of people’re stressed and pissed, but most of the time they handle it better than that. I get people screamin’ at me sometimes, but they can take their car somewhere else if they want. Not gonna get better service with that attitude.”

“Do you – are you able to make decent money?”

“Yeah, not quite what I made at the DPD, but enough to live on. It’s less stressful, and I get shot at less.” Hank’s smirk fell as he glanced over at Connor. “Uh. Anyway. I miss the old job sometimes, but I don’t think I’d go back now. I was like you, I hit that point where I needed to change somethin’. Ended up bein’ a good idea.”

“And… and you’re happy now?” Connor whispered, leaning forward over Sumo, his eyes glued to Hank.

“I –“ Hank took a swig of beer and looked away. “I don’t wanna sugarcoat it, ki – Connor. It’s better than it was. It’s peaceful, but I keep busy. It’s rewarding, it’s its own kind of mental challenge.” He paused, and took another deep drink before muttering, “I figure I’ll never really be happy again. Not like I was before.”

Connor stared at him, paling. Hank looked up and made a face.

“That’s just me. Don’t mean you’ll never be happy – Christ, it’s only been a couple months for you, it’s – it takes time. It just takes time, that’s all.”

“Longer than three years?”

“…I guess sometimes.”

Connor nodded slowly. “Well. In that case, I’m not looking forward to it but there’s hope for both of us eventually.”

Hank’s face twitched and he visibly bit back a hasty response. “Definitely for you. It’s barely been –“

“What if it takes me three years? Or more?”

“I – it might. But you’ll get there.”

“Then you could, too.”

Hank snorted and took a deep drink. “If you say so.”

Connor frowned. “It’s either true for both of us, or for neither.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, okay. It could happen.”

Connor smiled faintly and leaned back into the couch. When Hank went to bed a few hours later, the younger man was sprawled over Sumo. Hank pulled out his legs so he wouldn’t be quite as sore in the morning, and pulled a blanket over him before leaving him to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

After grabbing some toast and coffee, the two headed to the garage the next morning. There was a car sitting outside with a dead battery, and Hank went over the parts under the hood, then talked Connor through the steps of changing it. Pop the hood, test the old battery, take it out, test the new battery, pop it in, all set. Connor’s smile was tentative but hopeful.

The next car needed its transmission replaced, and Hank put in the order and then called Connor over to take a closer look when the owner left. He had Connor identify all the parts, then pointed out the worn-down parts of the transmission. They moved to Connor’s car from there, and Hank showed him the differences. He turned the key in the ignition, then gently popped the console open to show Connor the starter drive gear that was damaged. He took out the computer diagnostic box and plugged it in, and Connor watched closely as it popped up an answer.

“Shakin’ like that though, I don’t need the box to tell me it’s electrical.”

“Could it be anything else?”

“Could be the spark plugs, but look there – looks pretty good. We can try a new set, just in case.” He went to the store room and brought back a box. “I’ll do this one, you do the rest.”

Connor watched closely, and clumsily mimicked the action.

“Okay, now give it a try.”

Connor got in the car and turned the key. There was a loud grinding noise, and the car shook. He quickly turned it off again.

“Nah, didn’t think so. Worth a try, though. Good to replace ‘em every few years anyway. …Hey, while we’ve got a minute, I’ll show you how to change the oil.”

It was an easy process, but Connor ended up covered in used motor oil. Hand handed him a cloth as he sputtered and wiped his face.

“I’m sorry,” Connor croaked. “I’ll… clean that up.”

“Nah, just clean yourself up. I’ve got some dish soap in the bathroom for that.”

When Connor got back he was still fairly oily and looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t expect to be much help to you, but I’m trying not to make things harder…”

“You’re doin’ okay, Connor. Shit happens all the time, no harm done. C’mere, you’ve still gotta put in the new oil.”

Connor walked over slowly. “…I need to close the bottom of the tank first.”

Hank grinned and slapped his back. “Smart, everybody forgets that the first time! Don’t worry, I got it while you were cleanin’ up. Just double-check that it’s the right oil, then pour it in. It’ll take a couple bottles.” He watched Connor pour in the oil, check with the dipstick, and screw on the cap. “Nice. Ever change a tire?”

They took a tire and tested it for leaks, then Connor clumsily applied a patch. Tthey raised his car up and he removed a tire and put it back on. Hank compared various tires’ condition. They looked at wiring and hoses. They checked and refilled fluids. They looked at mechanisms for crank windows and electric ones. Took out and reinstalled a satellite radio. When they stopped for lunch, Hank talked about keeping a car in good condition – keeping it lighter, unless it was a pickup truck that needed some counterbalance in the back. Regular maintenance. Letting the engine warm up on a cold morning. The best cruising speed on the highway. Saving gas by keeping the windows up. Connor leaned forward over the table and ate voraciously as he listened.

Towards the end of the day they had a few tune-ups to do, and Hank talked Connor through the process, then they talked while they worked together. Hank talked about how hard it had been when he’d first started out on his own. How he’d struggled with cooking and cleaning and making ends meet at first, and how he’d found better ways, though he still didn’t put much effort into cooking or cleaning. Things he wished somebody had told him, or things somebody had told him that he wished he’d listened to.

“It sounds… daunting,” Connor murmured, cleaning the floor when they locked up for the night.

“Yeah, but it gets easier. You get used to things.”

“Did… did your… family help you much?” He tried desperately to keep his voice even and casual.

“A little. I was too fuckin’ stubborn to take their help even when they offered most of the time, though.” Hank snorted and shook his head. “My own fault. I guess I never figured out how to ask for it.”

Connor nodded morosely. “Are you still close to them…?”

“Uh – no. Most of ‘em are dead by now, I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, and…” He shrugged. “Was never real close to the extended family.” He paused. “How about you? You said there wasn’t anybody around here… anywhere else?”

Connor sighed. “No.”

“I take it things aren’t great with your mom back home?”

“No.”

“Sorry to hear that. …I got into plenty of fights with my dad growing up, that never really stopped. Got my stubbornness from him, I guess.”

Connor hesitated, then smiled tightly. “I’m… glad you had other family members to go to, at least.”

“Yeah. …Much as I try to make it otherwise… life’s damn near impossible to get through alone.”

“…You seem to be getting by now.”

Hank chuckled humorlessly, counting the register. “Kid – sorry, Connor – I’m a wreck. I got a job and a place to live, but… yeah, things ain’t great. …Not sayin’ they couldn’t be. For you. Maybe even for me. But they’re not. I’m livin’, that’s about all I can say.”

Connor turned to look at Hank for a long moment. “I hope… I… is there anything… I can do?”

“Yeah, that’s – no. Uh. Thanks, I – don’t worry about me.”

“You’ve been worrying about me quite a bit for the past two days,” Connor shot back, a little sharper than he intended. “…Sorry. I just – I don’t know. I mean it, if I can do anything to help… let me know.”

Hank looked up and smiled almost softly. “You heard me, I don’t take help from anybody. …But thanks. I… I appreciate it anyway.”

“Have a good weekend, Hank.”

“You too – hey, you work out a place to sleep tonight?”

Connor nodded, slinging his backpack on his back. “I found a motel that seems a little cleaner. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well if you get in a tight spot, you got my number. Hey – I’ll give you a call Monday when your part comes in. If you don’t have anything better to do by then, you come by and help fix the car up, okay? I’ll take the labor costs off the bill.”

“Oh, I – you don’t have to do that, I know I’m not much help…”

“Sure you are, you’re pickin’ it up quick. I’m not gonna offer somethin’ you didn’t earn.”

Connor chewed on his lip worriedly for a moment. “…If… if you’re sure.”

“Said I was.”

“Well… thank you, then. I – thanks.”

“No problem. Good luck findin’ what you need this weekend. Hope you get some time to just chill while you’re at it.”

He smiled tightly. “Thanks, Hank. You too.”

_”We used to do fun stuff on the weekends.”_

_”Like what?”_

_”Um, like we went to the playground a lot, and sometimes the zoo or the aquarium or the museum. We took Sumo to the park. We watched movies. In the summer we went camping sometimes.”_

_”That sounds… nice. I would have loved to do all those things.”_

_”What’d you do on the weekends?”_

_”I played sports and learned to play some musical instruments. I studied a lot. We did go to some museums, that was interesting sometimes. I got to play with Connor more, but he was as busy as I was.”_

_”…He loves you a lot.”_

_”And I love him a lot. We always had each other, even when we felt like we weren’t enough for anyone else.”_

A small spectral hand slipped into a larger one. _”You’re enough. You’re better than enough, so is Connor.”_

The taller spirit smiled fondly and bent to hug the boy. _”Thank you. Are you going to stay here for a while?”_

Cole looked back at Hank, who was getting into his car. _”I’ll go home with Dad. He doesn’t like weekends.”_

_”All right. …I’ll see you later, then. Goodnight.”_

_”Goodnight!”_

It wasn’t that Connor didn’t have any marketable skills. It was just that they were in a very specific area, and there were so few jobs in that field that his education and paltry experience didn’t count for much. Maybe if he wanted to move to the coast… but he didn’t, he wanted to be here. So he was looking for positions outside of his field of expertise, and his resume didn’t lend itself well to that. Still, he put in applications wherever he could.

He looked for apartments too, though most of them required proof of employment. When he couldn’t stand sitting around anymore, he walked around town for a while to take a look at some of the closer ones. Nothing fancy, not the nicest neighborhoods, but they didn’t look awful for the most part. Not like his place back in Chicago. Not like their mother’s house. But he could manage. He could manage if he could find a job that paid more than minimum wage. He’d find a way.

Hank took Sumo for a walk when he finally woke up. He didn’t feel like getting up, but he owed it to his dog. And as much as he didn’t want to be up and moving, he didn’t want to spend too much time in the house. The empty house with the empty rooms and all his fucking trash all over that he didn’t have the strength to clean up…

He finally ended up on the couch with a bottle of whiskey, Sumo sprawled next to him. …It wasn’t the same as it had been the other night, with Connor to talk to, to distract him from the shit that always surrounded him. He hadn’t talked to the guys from the precinct in ages – Jeffrey called a couple times a year, and so did Ben, but it was like he’d dropped off the face of the Earth for everyone else. Like he’d never existed to them, like he barely existed to anyone.

Connor was a welcome change from all that, but he’d be gone as soon as he could. Hank knew he was trying to pin to the poor guy down – nevermind that he obviously needed help, he didn’t need a pathetic old drunk clinging to him like a leech. But he’d find his feet again soon enough, and get out of here. Leave Hank to die in peace. Was his gun still on the table? No, he’d hidden it when he’d brought Connor home. In the bedroom. He heaved himself up, then fell back with a groan. He was so tired. He’d just rest a second, then go get it.

By the time the sun set he was unconscious, breathing shallowly, head tipped to the side on the back of the couch.

A typical Saturday.

Sunday wasn’t much different for either of them, though Hank didn’t manage to take Sumo on a walk. He put him out in the back yard then went to throw up in the bathroom, almost passing out again in the toilet.

Connor hadn’t expected to hear back from any of the jobs yet, after less than twenty-four hours and on a weekend, but the whole prospect of the search was discouraging. He hadn’t slept well again, and his stomach hurt – he vaguely knew he should eat, but the idea made him sick.

In the evening, his feet led him to a seedy bar not far from the motel. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he found a dark stout that wasn’t bad. This wasn’t really his thing, but nothing else felt right. This didn’t either, but it seemed like somewhere he’d fit in, as low as he felt.

He was starting on his third drink, pointedly ignoring everyone else in the room, when he heard a familiar snort and someone settled heavily onto the stool beside him.

“Didn’t figure you for a big drinker, the way you took to it the other night,” Hank muttered. Connor could smell the whiskey that radiated from him.

“…After four beers, how much were you able to keep track of my drinking?” he snapped, shoulders hunching up.

“Just as good as I did after six, but you were asleep by then,” Hank shot back, and motioned for a whiskey.

“Seems like you’ve already had your fill tonight.”

“Seems like that’s none of your goddamn business – just the three for you? You not eat today? Cause you weren’t this much of a lightweight the other day.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor scoffed, and straightened up on his stool.

“Uh-huh.”

They both drank in silence for a while.

“Hank… you should go home,” Connor mumbled, pushing away his third empty bottle.

“Oh – oh, me? You’re the one who’s leanin’ on the wall over there.”

Connor blinked and straightened up. “You’ve… you… you need to slow down at least.”

“Fuck off, Connor.” He motioned for another whiskey. “You’re the one who should get outta here.”

“Sick of being everywhere,” Connor mumbled, sagging down into his crossed arms on the bar.

Hank made a face. “Sick of bein’ here yet?”

“…Yes. Not as much as everywhere else yet.”

“You find a place to live?”

“Can’t until I get a job.”

“Yeah?” Hank burped. “No job yet either?”

“’s Sunday. Nobody called me yet.”

“Welp, maybe tomorrow.” He elbowed Connor roughly, and the younger man scrambled to keep his seat. “Shit, sorry kid.” He grabbed Connor and pulled him up again a little too much so he slumped into Hank. “Uh. Connor. Sorry.”

“Couldn’t be your kid,” Connor mumbled, glaring at the bar.

Hank had been about to ask for a third whiskey, but dropped his hand. “…Wouldn’t be anything good about that,” he growled.

“Sure beat what I’ve got now.” Connor’s face sank back into his arms.

“…Yeah, I think you’ve had plenty for tonight. Where’re you stayin?”

“With R-Richard tonight, I… I’m gonna stay with him, I came here for him, might as well… ‘m gonna end up there s-soonerer later.”

“Yeah, more’n enough for you. C’mon, let’s go home.”

“I don’ have a home, I live with the dead,” Connor moaned.

“Okay Casper, get up.” Hank hauled himself up and grabbed Connor around the waist, laying some cash on the bar and nodding to Jimmy as he pulled the younger man along with him.

“Connor,” he corrected Hank, leaning heavily on him. “You know it’s Connor.”

“I know, Connor.”

“Or kid, kid’s… it’s okay.”

“Fuck, now that I’m finally breakin’ the habit?”

“I don’t… I don’t mind it, Hank.”

“Sure, fine, whatever. Kid.”

Connor giggled and slung an arm around him.

“You’re a fucking weird drunk, by the way,” Hank muttered as they wove their way back towards his house.

Connor stumbled. “I – what? Wwwwwhy?”

“You’re sayin’ all kinds of dumb shit. You know better.”

“I – I’m sorry, I – I… I’m just, I –“

Hank snorted. “Breathe, you’re turnin’ purple.” Connor tried to suck in a breath but couldn’t make his lungs expand. He tried a few more times and stared at Hank in panic.

“Connor!” When he continued the short gasps, Hank turned and slapped him in the face. Connor gasped and staggered back, but Hank held onto him. “There, keep doin’ that or you’ll pass out again. I’m not carryin’ you home.”

Connor immediately bent over and vomited forcefully onto the sidewalk. Hank’s stomach turned at the sound but he stood firm, holding Connor up and patting his back with the other hand. 

“Okay. You’re okay. Better out than in, get it all out. There ya go, spit a couple times, it’ll help. We’ll get you some water at home.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered, rubbing his face.

“It’s fine, that’ll teach you to drink on an empty stomach,” Hank sighed. “You ready to walk again?”

They finally made it back. Connor collapsed over Sumo, who was thrilled at this development, and Hank had to drag him off.

“Okay, c’mon. Connor, go to the bathroom. Sumo, let him be for a minute. …Can’t even drink at my own favorite bar anymore,” Hank grumbled as both did as they were told.

“Ssss-sorry, Hank, I’m sorry I’m… here again,” Connor mumbled when he stumbled back to the living room.

Hank patted him heavily on the shoulder, causing him to lose his balance and sit down hard on the couch. “Rather have you here than out on the street like this. You just… just sleep it off, it’ll be okay.”

Connor looked up at him, lost and uncertain. Hank ruffled his hair.

“It’ll be okay, son.”

Connor’s eyes closed as he leaned into the touch, and Hank clumsily pushed him around to lie down before pulling a blanket over him. Sumo ambled over to stretch out on the floor next to the couch.

“You keep an eye on him, boy. G’night.”

“Night,” Connor sighed.

Hank glanced in to the kitchen when he walked away, at the bottle on the table, at the picture frame turned down. He’d been hoping to drink himself into oblivion, but he hated to do that with Connor around, even dead to the world. Instead he stumbled to his room and flopped down on the bed.

_”I wish he had met your dad when he was still a child. …I wish we both had.”_

_”Me too. …But he’s here now, so it’ll be okay.”_

_”It’s not the same for adults.”_

Cole paused thoughtfully. _”Why? Adults have dads and moms and stuff too.”_

Richard blinked. _”Well… yes… but it isn’t the same.”_

_”Why not?”_

_”Ah… well, legally…”_

_”No, I mean really, not legally.”_

Richard stared down at him, speechless.

_”My dad needs him, and he needs my dad. Right?”_

_”I… well, yes…”_

_”He already called him son.”_

_”That… Cole, he wasn’t quite himself.”_

_”Being drunk doesn’t mean he says stuff he doesn’t mean, he just says stuff he’s scared to say when he’s not. Like when Connor said he likes it when Dad calls him ‘kid.’ I listen a lot, I know.”_

Richard sighed. _”Of course, we have nothing to do with it. But… it would be nice if you were right.”_


	5. Chapter 5

Connor woke with a groan. Light was streaming into the room, and he… definitely wasn’t in the motel. He squinted around. Hank’s house. He vaguely remembered the bar, and now flashes of walking back were returning to him. It was all fuzzy and patchy.

There was a memory, though, of a hand on his head.

_It’ll be okay, son._

There was a messy note on the coffee table telling him to get some food and a shower before he left. Neither of those sounded feasible, but he struggled to the bathroom and got as clean as he could before grabbing a piece of bread, patting Sumo, and dragging himself outside.

He had an interview for an upscale furniture sales job at the mall, so he took the bus there first. The manager made it clear from the beginning that she was looking for someone with a different combination of education and experience, although even through his hungover haze he could pull off the demeanor. She said she’d give him a call in a week or so, but he knew when he walked out that it wasn’t likely.

There was a clothing store looking for help, but they only paid barely above minimum wage so he walked on by. He breathed in the smells of the food court, of pretzels, of candy, of the artificially freshened air. And he left, because the lighting was giving him a headache.

There was a fast-casual restaurant looking for a prep cook with no experience, he’d set up an interview at 10:30, but when he got there the manager had gone to the baseball game. After arranging the interview, after telling him to come at this time. The employees asked him to come back tomorrow. Not a chance.

He wandered around aimlessly until finally his phone rang. He scrambled to answer it.

“Hank?”

“Hey, you get up okay today? You were in pretty bad shape last night.”

“Y-yes, I’m fine… I – and you?”

“Oh, yeah, not as bad as some mornings. Listen, your parts came in, wanted to know if you had time to help me fix your car up.”

“Ah! I – I’m on the other side of town, but I’ll head back right now. Um. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for calling me.”

“No problem. See you soon.”

Hank bit back a smile when Connor made his way in. “You look like shit,” he called softly, and Connor winced a little.

“Thank you. I feel like shit.”

“Gonna be a habit, you crawlin’ in here lookin’ like death?”

“God, I hope not.”

“Well, next time eat somethin’ before you start drinkin’. You should know better.” Connor’s shoulders hunched up, and Hank came over to pat his back. “Good to see you, though.”

“It’s… good to see you, too,” Connor admitted shyly, relaxing a little. “I, um… I spent my morning at the mall.”

“Sounds godawful.”

“It was. I’m not good enough for Restoration Hardware – they practically demand a Ph.D. in architecture! And the manager at Pei Wei blew me off to go to the baseball game.”

Hank snorted, then shook his head. “…Sorry, that’s shitty. Kinda funny, though.”

“Hilarious,” Connor muttered.

“Hey. You don’t wanna work at the mall, anyway. God, can you imagine? Talk about wanting to shoot yourself in the face every day… You can do better’n that.”

“Well, so far I can’t.”

Hank squeezed Connor’s shoulder, and the younger man leaned into it. “C’mon, let’s get your car fixed up. That’ll get your head in a different spot, if nothing else.”

It was a more complicated problem than the others they’d looked at together, so Hank had Connor do some of the simpler parts, and did the more difficult things himself while he talked Connor through them. It took a while, but they got everything put together and the car started up perfectly.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Connor mumbled as he stuck his credit card in the reader.

“Nah, don’t mention it. It’s good to have some help around here.”

Connor scoffed. “You don’t have to lie to me, I know I’m useless around cars.”

“Hey, no. You’re inexperienced, that’s all. For where you are, you’re doin’ fine.” He patted Connor’s arm. “And if you decide you wanna get into auto repair, I’ve been lookin’ for an assistant for a while. Just not advertisin’ much anymore because of the idiots I got.”

Connor stared at him. “…I can’t imagine how they’d be worse than someone who absolutely has no idea what he’s doing.”

Hank chuckled. “Lot of times they just showed up whenever they wanted, couldn’t keep to a schedule. Some of ‘em thought they knew everything, I couldn’t tell ‘em a thing. Or they came and fucked around, didn’t do their work, broke shit, stole from customers… Nah, kid, you’d be worlds better’n that. …Sorry. Connor. I promise I’m tryin’.”

“I – it’s okay. I thought I told you that already.”

“Well you did, but you were fallin’ down drunk at the time, so I kinda took it with a grain of salt.”

“Well… I meant it. I don’t really mind. I know you’re not being… condescending when you say it.”

“Course I’m not. Like I said, I’d be lucky to have a…” He cleared his throat. “An employee like you. And you’re good company.” Hank smiled lopsidedly.

“Thank you.” Connor smiled back tentatively. “…So are you.”

“Well… good luck out there.” Hank clasped Connor’s hand warmly. “You ever need anything, my door’s always open. …And I wasn’t kiddin’ about the job, I’d hire you and train you up if you wanted.”

There was open longing in Connor’s face, but there was also fear. It closed over quickly. “Thanks, Hank. I – I have a few leads to check out, but… I’ll keep that in mind.”

A couple days passed, and Hank didn’t hear from Connor. Kid had probably landed on his feet. Hank was getting a new can of WD-40 from the supply closet when the phone rang.

“Anders Automotive,” he answered gruffly.

“Hello, am I speaking to the owner?” It was a woman, probably around his age.

“Yeah, what can I do for you?”

“My name is Amanda Stern, and I believe you repaired my son’s car recently.”

That set off a lot of alarm bells in his mind. “Sorry ma’am, I can’t discuss clients with anyone else.”

“I understand, but Connor is my son. He disappeared – ran off, I think – and I’ve been trying to find him. He won’t answer my calls, and I’m worried.”

“You, uh… got a gps in the car or somethin’?”

“His credit card was used to pay for some repairs Monday at 1:30 pm.”

“Huh. Sounds like a breach of privacy to me.”

“This is my son we’re talking about, not some stranger!”

“Oh, I know. Law’s pretty clear though, once he turns 18, that ain’t any of your business.”

“I know the laws better than you could imagine.”

“I dunno about that. Look lady, I can’t tell you anything. And you know damn well nobody else can either.”

“If you see him again… tell him to call his mother. It’s not too late to make his life mean something, he can still pick it back up. Tell him that.”

“Make his life mean something!? Shit, you talk to your own kid like that?”

“You don’t have any children, do you Mr. Anders? I’m trying to help him.”

He hadn’t mentioned his name, and it rubbed him the wrong way to hear her say it. “Fuck you, ma’am.” He ended the call and blocked the number. When he could do so without smashing his fist into the phone, he called Connor.

“…Hank?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. Just wanted to give you a heads up. You need to cancel your credit card, start a new bank account, get a new phone number… cover your tracks a little.”

“I’m in the process, but I need an address, and – did… did she call you?” The frustration quickly gave way to horror.

“Yeah, and she’s a fuckin’ piece of work. I know I’m crossin’ a line here, but you need to get away from that.”

“I’m trying, it’s… it’s hard. I’m trying.” His voice wavered.

“Connor. If you need an address to get shit goin’, use mine. Or the garage, if you feel better about that. You can change it later, people move all the time. You don’t – you don’t need that in your life. You’re – you… you mean more than that, Connor. You’re more than that. You know that, right?”

Connor didn’t answer immediately, but Hank heard him breathing. “You… you wouldn’t mind? If I… listed your address temporarily?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I minded,” the older man grumbled. “Go for it.”

“Thank you,” Connor exhaled. “I – I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Nah, it’s not that much. Don’t worry about it. You take care, okay?”

“I… I will.”

“And let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

…He probably wouldn’t, Hank knew, but it couldn’t hurt to offer.

Hank went to visit Cole that night.

“I miss you every day, son,” he murmured. “Things’ve been okay lately, though. Well, okay for me. Still not great. Better. Been talkin’ to a… I dunno, customer, friend, whatever.” He paused. “You know nobody could ever replace you. You’ll always be my son, my boy. It’s… it’s a little like that, though. If you were – if you’d grown up. Wish we’d gotten the chance to have that.” He sighed heavily, then turned to Richard’s grave.

“I’m, uh… I’ve been… lookin’ out for your brother a little,” he mumbled. “He’s a good kid, just havin’ a rough time. Stubborn as fuck. …He misses you. Sounds like you were a good one, too. We coulda swapped stories about the precinct. God, did you work with Gavin? What an asshole. I haven’t been back there in a long time. Too long. Ben finally retired last year, I bet he loves that. Fowler’ll be stuck there til he dies. Miller, Wilson, Chen… Reed too, I guess… the younger crowd’s movin’ up in the ranks by now.” He smiled a little. “Hope they took good care of you there.”

_”They did,”_ Richard murmured. _”I miss them, too.”_ He turned to Cole. _”You don’t mind if he talks to me?”_

_”No, I like it. He likes you, too.”_ The boy reached up and squeezed his hand, and Richard smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

The following night Hank was dozing in front of the TV when his phone rang.

“Nngh… Yeah?” he answered sleepily.

“Hi Hank…”

“…Chris?”

“Hey, how’ve you been?”

“Uh – okay, pretty good I guess. Um. You?”

“I’m great, my son’s finally starting to sleep through the night – I mean… Um. Listen, sorry to bother you, but we’ve got a guy over here who says he knows you, won’t give me any other contacts, friends, family, nothing. Had a brother who was just starting here a few months back, but –“

“Connor?”

“Just wanted to check that you do know him. Yeah, he was sleeping in his car at Woodlawn Cemetery, and I don’t wanna have to take him in for trespassing.”

“Shit, I’ll be right there.” Hank heaved himself off the couch and fumbled around for his wallet and keys. “Uh. Thanks Chris, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He hung up and grabbed his jacket on the way out.

“Your brother was a good kid,” Chris said, smiling slightly at Connor who was hunched up on his car. “Smartest guy I’ve ever met, but just… really nice, too. He babysat for my son once, and I swear he should’ve opened a daycare or something. He was so happy.”

Connor smiled faintly. “I – I remember him mentioning that. We didn’t interact much with young children, growing up.”

“Well, he was a natural.”

“He… was always good at everything,” Connor murmured. “I really admired him.”

Office Miller patted his back. “I know he was proud of you, too. He talked about you all the time.”

Connor’s shoulders slumped. “He wouldn’t be proud now.”

“I don’t know, I think he might. He always said you should get out of Chicago, do your own thing.”

“Well, here I am, doing my own thing, being detained by the police,” Connor muttered, rubbing his face.

“Hey, it’s not like that. …It’s trespassing, yes, but I’m just making sure you’re safe tonight. That’s why I called Hank, and why we’re not going downtown.”

“He already thinks I can’t do anything for myself, this will only prove him right.”

“Did he say that? Doesn’t sound like him.”

“No, but – I mean, look at me.”

“Hank understands going through a hard time more than most people. Sometimes… you need help.”

“If you’re a failure,” Connor agreed bitterly.

“…Richard had a little of that attitude in him too. It’s the one thing he was wrong about. Hard to break out of, I guess. Society’s not made for people to do everything on their own. You hit a low point, you need somebody there for you. You’re doing great, you want to share that. Average, well, it’s good to know you’re not alone, right?”

“I shouldn’t… have to have someone… just waiting to scrape me up off the ground again and again.”

“…Would Richard do that for you?”

“Of course.”

“And you’d do it for him, even if it happened a lot.”

“Of course! But we were brothers, that’s different.”

Chris shrugged as Hank’s car pulled up. “Is it? Maybe it shouldn’t be.”

“You okay, Connor?” Hank called, getting out of the car.

“I’m fine.”

“Thanks for calling, Chris.”

“Sure, Hank. Good to see you.”

“You too. Everybody behavin’ themselves downtown?”

Chris snorted. “…You hear Reed’s about to get promoted?”

“No shit? Fowler goin’ soft?”

“Nah, he’s just hoping the extra responsibility will help. He’s not as bad as he used to be.”

“Seriously?”

“…I mean, he’s still annoying. And an asshole. Not starting as many fights lately though, and he’s starting to watch his mouth a little.”

“Well that’s a miracle. …Tell him congratulations for me, will you?”

“Sure, I think he’ll appreciate that.”

Hank smirked and shook his head.

“You got it from here?”

“Yeah, thanks again.”

“No problem. Good meeting you, Connor. Take care.” Chris waved to them both and headed back to his car.

Connor was hunched in on himself, staring at the ground, already flinching. Hank walked over slowly. The younger man didn’t speak, didn’t look up. Hank leaned on the car next to him. They stood silently for a few minutes.

“After the accident, I was a fuckin’ mess,” Hank finally muttered. “Woulda killed myself a bunch of times if I didn’t have some people lookin’ out for me. …And if I wasn’t so damn bad at it. Gonna be honest, I still ain’t convinced that’s a good thing. But here I am.” He shrugged.

Connor stared at him in fascinated horror. “Is that supposed to… have some deeper meaning? Because as pep talks go, I think that was the worst I’ve ever heard.”

“Shut up, Connor.” Hank shot him a glare that didn’t hold any ire. “I’m not a real deep kinda guy, just sayin’ what happened to me.”

“How… how did you… deal with it?” Connor whispered, looking away.

“Pretty badly. Drank a lot, mostly. Was an asshole to anybody who talked to me. Tried to put a bullet in my skull just about every night for a while. …Not much’s changed.”

“You’ve been nice to me since the beginning,” Connor protested softly. “You were nice to Officer Miler just now.”

“Guess I’m gettin’ soft, then.”

“Do you drink that much?”

“Plenty more than I should.” He paused. “…Not as much as I did at first, but still plenty.”

Connor frowned for a moment. “Do you… do you try… to k-kill yourself… still?”

Hank was silent as he stared at the asphalt. “…Not as much.”

Connor shifted a little, so his elbow rested lightly against Hank’s just enough for him to feel. The two stood in silence, not looking at each other.

“Hank,” Connor finally spoke up. “Would you mind… could I… um. Y-you mentioned… the possibility that I could go back to your house… for a while. I – is that offer still on the table?”

“It’s there if you want it, Connor.”

Connor’s shoulders slumped in a mixture of defeat and relief. “I do,” he whispered. “Please.”

Connor parked in the driveway next to Hank’s car. Hank pushed Sumo back from the door when he came inside, but as soon as Connor was in, the big dog rushed up to slobber all over his pants.

“Sumo! Gross, give him a chance to get settled, at least.”

“It’s okay,” Connor murmured, taking the big head in both hands and rubbing it gently.

“I’ll fix up the couch for you if you wanna get a shower.”

“Thank you.” Connor wavered, then shut himself in the bathroom. He was in there for a long time, and came out wearing the same clothes. Hank frowned.

“You got anything else to sleep in?”

“It’s – I… Sorry, I’ll get it.” He fled to his car before Hank could respond, and came back with a backpack. He went into the bathroom again, and came out in a soft T shirt and shorts.

“You can do laundry tomorrow if you need to.”

Connor sank down on the couch. “I promise I’m not usually this much of a mess. I – I had a real career, I had an apartment, I… performed the basic tasks necessary to take care of myself.”

“I know,” Hank said quietly. “You’ve just got a lot goin’ on right now. I know how it is.”

“It’s… it’s not just my brother. …It’s partly him. But he was all I had, and he’d help me… stand up to our mother, and I’m twenty-eight years old, I… that shouldn’t be a problem, I just…”

“Age don’t mean you don’t feel things,” Hank mumbled, sitting down near him. “Don’t mean you suddenly don’t care.”

Connor held his head in his hands. “I wish it did.” He shuddered, then stilled when he felt a warm hand on his back.

“I know, kid. Won’t always be this bad, though.”

“Is it… better now? For you?”

Hank grimaced. “…Still hurts, every day’s still hard. But… yeah. Better than it was at first. Better’n two months out.”

Connor shivered again, then leaned into Hank tentatively. 

“There ya go.” Hank patted his back and looped an arm around him. “You’re gonna make it, son.”

Connor stilled. He took a shaky breath.

“Um – shit, you know I just say crap without thinkin’, I’ll try not to call you that either, just –“

“No,” Connor almost snapped, looking down at Sumo. “It’s… it’s not a problem,” he whispered, and swallowed thickly. “Unless – is it a problem for you?”

Hank hesitated, glancing over at Connor, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Uh. I… dunno, don’t seem like it is.”

“Cole was lucky,” Connor mumbled, then inhaled sharply. “…To have a father like you. I just meant – lucky to have you.”

“Nah, I –“

“He was,” Connor insisted firmly.

Hank was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “…Well anybody’d be lucky to have a kid like you, Connor.”

He leaned into the older man a little more, shoulders slumped, and mumbled, “I tried to be a good son. I just-”

“That’s – it ain’t about… how good you are. I mean – look, I know you’re goin’ through a rough patch right now, but you said yourself you’re hot shit.”

Connor sputtered and sat up. “I-I never said that!”

“Yeah, Mr. Big Hotshot career with his own place, doin’ all your own basic tasks and all that shit.” Hank grinned and elbowed him. “Right?”

“That’s – it’s not… I mean, I just…”

“You were doin’ fine, better’n a lot of people. …But my point is it ain’t about that. Bein’ somebody’s kid, you don’t have to be perfect, or even good at anything. That’s what you worry about for jobs. Not family.”

Connor stared at him. Hank’s frown deepened.

“Connor, you know that, right? You could suck – be a complete failure at everything – and still be… you know, a good son. A good person. …You woulda loved your brother just as much if he’d flunked outta school or couldn’t hold a job or whatever, right?”

“I – of course! …That’s hard to imagine, but… but of course. I didn’t love him because he was… good at everything.”

“See? Same thing.”

“But that – we were brothers, it’s different in a relationship of equals,” Connor argued, rubbing his eyes lightly. “I would have loved him no matter what, of course. And he would have loved me. But…”

“That’s how it should be between parent and child. No question. It ain’t exactly equals, the parent’s gotta be the responsible one, make tough decisions, be the one in charge… but you still love ‘em, no matter what. Cole – well he was younger, but if he couldn’t catch a ball, or color in the lines, or spell his name… that was stuff to work on, but I still loved him just the same.”

Connor stared blankly.

“I mean, fuck, I ain’t perfect either. Nobody is, no matter what they say. If I can’t get everything right every time, it’d be mighty shitty of me to expect him to, don’t you think?”

Connor blinked slowly, and Hank noticed his breathing had grown shallower. He squeezed Connor’s shoulder.

“Hey. Breathe. Stay with me there.”

Connor turned and pressed his face into Hank’s arm. “Can I?” he whispered.

“Course you can. I told you that,” Hank scoffed gently, wrapping his arm around him a little tighter. “I like havin’ you around.”

“N-not forever, just.. for a while,” Connor asserted quickly, trying weakly to pull away again. “I’ll… I’ll do my part here, and I… I… I was thinking… if… could I…”

“Wanna see how you like workin’ down at the garage?”

“I… if you need help and think I’d be acceptable…”

“Yeah, I think so. …But I know it ain’t your big thing in life, at least not right now. So if you find somethin’ else, just let me know as soon as you know, got it?”

“Of… of course, I’ll be professional.”

“Good.” Hank smiled crookedly. “Good to have you, then. Here, and at work.”

Connor sagged bonelessly into his side. “I’m so tired,” he confessed almost inaudibly.

Hank rubbed his arm sympathetically. “That’s cause you don’t eat or sleep enough,” he murmured. “Get some sleep. Unless you wanna get some food first?”

Connor shook his head.

“…Big breakfast tomorrow, then. How ‘bout that?”

He nodded.

“Okay. Take off your shoes. Sumo, leave ‘em.”

Once Connor was tucked in, Hank hesitated only briefly before patting his shoulder gently. “G’night, son. You’ll be okay.”

“Night Dad,” Connor mumbled, already asleep. A slow smile spread over Hank’s face, and he rested his hand lightly on Connor’s head before heading to the bedroom.

Maybe things would be okay eventually.

Maybe some day, they'd be better than just okay.

_“I’m glad Dad’s not alone. Or Connor either.”_

In the faint glow of the DVD player’s clock, Richard scooped Cole up in his arms.

_“I suppose that means you and I are something like brothers.”_ It was spoken softly; uncertain but inviting.

_“I always wanted a brother,”_ the boy whispered, hugging him.

_“I would love to have another.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting!! And extra thanks to my artist partner who picked a great scene!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [Anomalous Appliances.](http://anomalous-appliances.tumblr.com/)


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